The Many Phobias of Dr Katsuya Jounouchi
by TheHaremshipper
Summary: .:Jou had no reason to suspect his secretary was anything but what he said he was. He came recommended from Yugi, after all.:. VERY DARK FIC Fakeshipping MarikxJouxMalik Rated M for mature, disturbing content. Ye be warned.


**AN: To my recent reader who has gotten me off my butt and back into writing, thank you! I'm sorry this is late, I told you I'd have it up weeks ago, but unfortunately, this thing called LIFE decided it wanted to screw with me and frustrate me to no end.**

**To Always a Bookworm:HI! You remember me? We haven't spoken in a while. I remember, however, that last summer we talked about me writing a fic based off a suggestion you'd given me. Well, this is actually one of them. I'd started writing it a long time ago, actually, but then when I was ten pages in it got deleted somehow and I lost my research notes, and I abandoned it out of frustration. I'm glad the idea continued to haunt me though, cause I managed to finally sit down and type it out. Sorry for the wait, and I hope it meets expectations.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!. If I did, I'd be slashing those boys left, right, and sideways.**

O.o.O.o.O

The Many and Varied Phobias of Dr. Katsuya Jounouchi

By TheHaremshipper

O.o.O.o.O

From childhood's hour I have not been

As others were—I have not seen

As others saw.

~Edgar Allan Poe, _Alone_, 1829

O.o.O.o.O

_The house was dark._

_The barest lights shone from decorative candles on mantle places, making the shadows flicker and move like living creatures. They crawled up the walls, pulsed in the corners, slithered across the floor to hover about the tips of feet. _

"_Mommy?" Seven year old Katsuya Jounouchi held still, brown eyes wide in curiosity as his mother, his beloved Mommy, ran her hand over his small shoulder._

_Kneeling before him at the bottom of the white carpeted stairs, painted with reds and oranges in the candlelight, his mother smiled at him warmly. "Hush, don't you love Mommy?"_

O.o.O.o.O

The room was bright.

Sunlight filtered through the windows to slice between the thin slats of wooden blinds painted egg-shell white. It splashed on light brown floorboards, shining with fresh, clean polish. In the middle of the far back wall sat a desk, with a sleek black laptop resting closed on its surface. On either end of the room bookshelves, crammed to the edges with psychology textbooks, medical dictionaries, and, hidden on one shelf, a single, thin copy of Hans Christian Anderson fairy tales, perched against powder blue walls. A dark green, plush chaise lounge and equally nice armchair were placed to the right of the room, centered about a long, glass coffee table.

In this room were two men.

"Your name is Malik Ishtar?" Katsuya Jounouchi, twenty eight year-old certified psychologist, smiled at the young Egyptian seated on the opposite side of his desk.

Malik Ishtar was at least five years Jounouchi's junior, and it showed. He carried the air of someone fresh, bright-eyed and eager. His posture was straight, his white teeth even and gleaming as he smiled, and not a single strand of long blond hair out of place. His crisp white button-up was free of wrinkles, his black dress bottoms sleek over long, strong limbs.

Despite the small size of their age difference, looking at Malik made Jounouchi feel much older than he truly was.

Folding his hands in his lap and crossing his legs, Malik flashed a wide smile. "Yes, it is."

Jounouchi nodded as he looked over the other's resume. He already knew he was going to give Malik the job. The man had a history working in secretarial services, with stunning reviews, and he came highly recommended from Jounouchi's own best friend, Yugi Mouto.

Which was curious, Jounouchi thought, as he didn't remember Yugi ever having mentioned a person named Malik before. But the phone call he'd gotten that morning from Yugi himself confirmed the acquaintanceship, and Yugi's pleas for him to give Malik a chance at this job had practically cemented Malik's place in the office.

"I can't find any room for complaint," Jounouchi admitted. "Your resume is stunning."

This was a formality. He knew it, and he knew Malik knew it. That didn't stop him from keeping up the pretense, or Malik from following along.

"You can start tomorrow," Jounouchi finally said, standing from his seat as Malik moved to do the same. Holding out his gloved hand, he smiled and said, "Welcome to the office."

Malik smiled back as he shook Jou's hand. "Thank you for having me."

Five minutes later, Jou stared idly at the pictures littering his desk, images of different people in different situations, but with the same smiling cookie-cutter expressions. Seeing the sincere happiness in the photos, he wondered at how Malik's numerous and beauteous smiles never reached his lavender eyes.

But that was okay, he decided. After all, none of his ever did either.

O.o.O.o.O

**Polyphobia: An abnormal fear of many things; a condition marked by the presence of many phobias.**

O.o.O.o.O

_They were like spiders._

_The way they crawled on his chest, his arms, his back; slipping beneath his shirt to push the cloth up his chest and over his head. The smallest of scratchy pressures on his skin. Yet he remained still, allowing these spider-like appendages to roam the previously untouched palette of his torso. _

_"Good boy, Katsuya," she whispered lovingly. "You're such a good boy."_

_He remained silent, observing his mother curiously. His stomach rolled uncomfortably as a fingertip brushed one of his small, pink nipples._

_"Mommy?" he questioned softly. She did it again, and he squirmed. Again, and he tried to lean away from the strange touch. One of her hands came up to grip his forearm, holding him firmly in place._

_"Mommy," Katsuya began urgently, "I don't like…"_

_He stopped when the hand that had been touching his nipple trailed down his chest, resting at the top of his stretchy green shorts. Something cold wrapped up his spine and clenched his throat as her fingers—her spider-like fingers—crept beneath the waistband and touched a part of him he himself had never explored before._

_"Mommy!" Katsuya grabbed her wrist, trying to pull her hand back. "Stop! Don't touch that!"_

_"Katsuya," she said firmly, "be a good boy."_

_He was scared. That tone, she'd never spoken to him with that tone before. It was demanding, angry, and scared him more than he'd ever been in his life. Without second thought he ripped himself from her scratchy hands and tore at the staircase next to him. If he could just get to his room, he thought, he could turn on the lights and hide under his covers until this thing, this _monster_ pretending to be his mother went away. _

_But he never made it up those stairs. He only got all of four steps before the spiders caught him, wrapping tightly around his ankles and yanking him down. His chin thwacked the carpeted stair and snapped his teeth together hard enough to rattle ears and make a grimace bloom across young features. _

_"Katsuya," she sang warningly, "you aren't being very good."_

_Her body began to creep over his, her hands crawling over his frame until she hovered over him, spiders resting on his shoulders. They cut into the pale, unblemished skin and flipped him onto his back, digging one stair painfully into his spine. _

_Katsuya's eyes widened, tears welling at the corners as she forced his arms above his head, holding them in place with one hand as the other crawled back into his shorts. "No! No, Mommy, please; I don't like it!"_

_She shoved his shorts down his legs as he struggled and twisted beneath her, straddling his knees once she was finished. With the barrier gone, her hand freely ran up his thigh to grasp that most private part of him._

_Shaking, Katsuya vainly struggled harder, frustration making his tears spill over. "Please," he whimpered. "Mommy, Mommy please…_

_"Mommy, stop."_

O.o.O.o.O

Jounouchi approached the building absent mindedly, skimming the crisp white pages of a manila folder as he walked. The words blended together as they repeated the same story he'd heard a thousand times.

As he entered the sliding doors of the building his shoes made a smart tapping sound on the linoleum. At nine in the morning, it was emptier than most would expect for such a large building. Jou himself only worked on the third floor, the psychiatry office.

Glancing up from the dull lines, Jou shut the folder he'd been reading. Brown leather was soft against his scalp as he ran a hand through tousled hair, pausing at the elevator. Pressing the button, he waited patiently for the doors to open.

"Doctor Jounouchi!"

Jou turned and smiled at the approaching associate. "Hello, Ishtar. Running late this morning, are we?"

Malik grinned sheepishly, white teeth flashing to compensate for the dullness of his eyes. "I suppose so. Those trains aren't as reliable as you'd think."

Jou hummed with false interest. "How has your first week been? I haven't had much time to ask between appointments. I hope I haven't overburdened you."

Malik was cordial as he chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "No, no! In fact, I'd say you've been very accommodating. I've had no troubles whatsoever."

Jou was about to reply when he noted two of the few people in the room, female interns from another floor of the building, he assumed, were giggling in hushed whispers as they shot conspicuous glances at Malik.

Taking a look himself, Jou had to admit to himself that his secretary did clean up very well. The man wore what he had every day since he'd been hired, but the look never ceased to be sharp on Malik.

Managing to muster some amusement in his tone, Jou said, "It seems you've become quite popular with the rest of the building's staff."

Following his gaze, Jou almost thought he saw something cross the younger's face before it was swiftly replaced with bashfulness. "Really, it's nothing." He scratched at his cheek sheepishly. "How embarrassing!"

Laughing good naturedly, Jou shook his head and glanced back at the closed elevators. What was taking it so long?

"We could take the stairs," Malik suggested, noticing the delay. Stepping to the right side of the elevator, he pushed open a grey door to reveal a well-lit stairwell.

Jou stared at the rubber edged steps for a moment before a blinding smile split his lips wide enough to squint his eyes closed. "I don't think that will be necessary. I'm sure the elevator'll be here any second."

Malik cocked his head quizzically. "Are you sure? It might be faster if we—"

"I'm sure," Jou interrupted. A ding was heard as the elevator door opened, and Jou's smile shrank to a less intense degree. "See? I told you."

Jou stepped into the elevator and Malik followed slowly, casting one last glance at the stairwell before taking his place next to the tense doctor.

"Well, Doctor Jounouchi," Malik smiled, the corners of his lips pulled a little too deeply and his eyes lit a little too pleasantly, "I suppose you were right after all."

The elevator door closed.

O.o.O.o.O

**Climacophobia: The fear of stairs, climbing, or of falling down stairs.**

O.o.O.o.O

_He was being eaten alive._

_Her hands, those spiders, were crawling over his skin and burrowing into his flesh. They scraped and pinched and pushed his tender torso. His wrists were grasped tightly by spindly appendages and held still; caught in the spider's grasp. Those claws on the tips of her fingers, spider fangs, cut into the pink skin of his nipples and scratched thin red lines that faded as quickly as they appeared down his sides. _

_But it was when those spiders, disgusting, crawling spiders, nipped at the tip of _that place_ that he screamed. It wrapped him in its soft palm and squeezed him, pumping him firmly and gently. Why was the spider being so gentle as it devoured him?_

_"Katsuya." _

_The breathy whisper came from above him, and he managed to blink the tears from his eyes. She was smiling. Her eyes were so warm._

_And then the spider squeezed him tightly, and he was forced to remember that these were _her_ spiders. _Her _hands that were touching him._ Her_ hands that had made his most private part act so strange, become so stiff like it hadn't been before._

"_You're so small," she murmured, as she lifted herself over him and began to pull up the edges of her skirt. "Still just a child."_

_She hovered over him. The spider—_her_ hand—gripped his wrist extra tight for a moment as the other grasped him once more. "But," she smiled, "it'll do."_

_She plunged herself onto him._

_And Katsuya sobbed._

O.o.O.o.O

His gloves were missing.

Jounouchi searched his desk frantically, pulling open drawers and shifting the contents. He couldn't find them. He planted his elbows on his desk and rested his face in his palms, closing his eyes. He forced himself to do deep breaths, fighting back the apprehensive shiver in his spine.

It was alright, he told himself. He'd find them. They had to be here. They'd been on this morning, when he'd come into work. He'd had them on through his first appointments.

He'd taken them off for lunch.

His eyes snapped open. He'd stuffed them in his pocket to eat lunch at his desk, when Malik had come in with an armload of documents he'd wanted Jounouchi to check for him. He'd stood and relieved Malik of some of his burden. They'd chatted for a minute before Malik had left Jou to eat and work. Jou had finished his meal, and begun work on the papers without putting his gloves back on. He'd opened the blinds and wandered to the bookshelves a few times as well, and had sat in the armchair to browse one of his psychology journals for a quick reference before heading back to his desk to work on a thesis he'd been developing. He'd been just about to get up and head out for a quick dinner before his evening appointments when he'd reached in his pocket to put them on, and found them missing.

Standing, he began to scan the floor with his eyes. They had to be in this room.

Jou had just begun searching the armchair when a knock came on his office door and Malik strode in. "Doctor? I was wondering if you'd finished looking at those documents so I can put them on file?"

Jou glanced up from the cushion he was putting back in place and replied, "Yes; they're on my desk. They're all ready for you."

Malik nodded and started to pick up the papers, but paused and turned back toward the frazzled looking doctor. "Doctor? Is something wrong?"

Jou was quiet as he moved back to his desk, searching the drawers once more, even though he knew they wouldn't be there. Finally, he answered. "I can't seem to find my gloves."

"The brown ones?" Malik asked. "The ones you always wear?"

Jou nodded. "I dropped them somewhere in here, but I'm having trouble finding them."

Malik smiled brightly. "I'll help you find them." He walked around the desk and stood to the side of the desk, dropping to his knees as he searched the floor around Jou.

Jou stiffened at Malik's close proximity, breath catching when one of the other man's hands brushed across his ankle. He was fine, he told himself. He was okay. "Ishtar, I don't think they're around here—"

"Ah!" Malik pulled himself up so he kneeled at Jou's side. "Are these what you were looking for?"

Jou stared disbelievingly at the brown leather gloves innocently grasped in Malik's hand. "Yes. Thank you."

Malik beamed. "No problem. They were in the corner under your desk; you probably just missed them."

"I could have sworn I checked there, though," Jou mumbled, reaching for the gloves.

Malik caught his hand before he could grasp them, and Jou froze in place at the feel of Malik's skin against his. Malik cradled his hand in his own, taking the right glove and beginning to deftly slide it on his fingers and over his palm. At the wrist, Malik's nails barely brushed the skin.

Too frozen to move, Jou didn't protest when Malik snatched his other hand and gave it the same treatment, efficiently putting the glove back in its rightful place on his bare hand. His tongue felt like cotton in his mouth as he registered the feel of skin against skin, fingertips across his sensitive palm.

He hated it.

Still unable to speak, to move, Jou watched with blank eyes as Malik completed his self-assigned task and stood from his place at Jou's side. Malik deftly scooped up the documents he'd come for and made for the door, tossing a smile and half-lidded eyes over his shoulder. "You should be more careful where you place your things, Doctor."

Jounouchi trembled.

O.o.O.o.O

**Haphephobia: The fear of being touched.**

O.o.O.o.O

_She shifted above him, her hips moving over his. Her spiders still held him, stroked him, pinched and scraped and cut and _killed_ him with every move they made._

"_Katsuya," she said, in a low way that made his stomach heave and acid pool in the back of throat in a disgusting burn. "Katsuya."_

_He wished she'd stop saying his name. _

_Only his Mommy could say his name. And this _creature_ parading in his mother's skin was not her. It _couldn't _be her. His little heart wouldn't be able to take it._

"_Katsuya."_

O.o.O.o.O

Jou looked over the papers in front of him. They were well organized, neat, typed in an efficient, no-nonsense font. They gave off the impression of professionalism and class, and were exactly the type of documents Jounouchi expected. All-in-all, they were exceptional work.

Setting one crisp page down, Jou nodded at his secretary standing on the other side of his desk. "Wonderful work, as always Ishtar. You have exceeded expectations."

Malik almost looked bashful, but the confidence in his eyes betrayed him. "Thank you, Doctor. I've enjoyed working here the past month." He held out one hand. "And please, call me Malik."

Jou hesitated to take the offer, remembering the glove incident from the week before, but in the end clasped Malik's hand in a small shake. Withdrawing swiftly, Jou nodded at Malik. "Alright then," he was slow to speak the name, "Malik."

Malik's face was lit with tantamount satisfaction, and lavender eyes darkened. "Say, since you now call me Malik, can I call you Katsuya?"

Jou's face paled drastically. "I don't…"

"It's fine, right?" Malik's palms flattened on Jou's desk as he leaned closer. "It's okay, isn't it? _Katsuya?"_

Jou's breathing faltered as Malik neared, and he gasped a breath. "No! No. Please, just call me Jou. That's what everyone else calls me."

Malik halted in his approach, and began to back away. Teeth glinted in his smile. "Alright then, _Jou_."

O.o.O.o.O

**Nomatophobia: The fear of names.**

O.o.O.o.O

_Her hair was tangled in black tendrils that hung over her shoulders like swamp grass. Pale skin, mottled purple and green and yellow in patches, gleamed in the candlelight. A pretty face, so beautiful, was twisted with stolen pleasure, lips parted with rough intakes of breath. _

_Katsuya hated looking at her._

_He turned his head away, tears leaking from his eyes to trail across the bridge of his nose. Looking through the slats in the railing of the staircase, he spotted the mantle on the opposite wall. Above it hung a beloved mirror. A large circle, it was edged with heavy black iron molded into twisting ivy and sharp thorns. It had once hung in the bedroom of his grandmother, but with her passing it had claimed a new home here on this wall. The mantle just below it was lined with small, odorless white candles. It was similar to the scene of an offering; the candles lit and silent to give up the image the wizened mirror chose to reflect._

_Now, it reflected the staircase. It reflected his tearstained, snot riddled face and wide, terrified eyes. And it reflected her. In the mirror, she didn't look beautiful. It showed her writhing, panting, a hungry beast devouring its prey with thin claws and sour poison. It showed the truth._

_It showed his Mommy._

_Perhaps what the mirror was looking for wasn't an offering._

_Perhaps what it was looking for was a sacrifice._

O.o.O.o.O

Jou couldn't get his tie right.

He grunted with frustration as his fingers caught the material once more, undoing the pitiful knot he'd attempted and resolved to start over once more. Looping the ends and doing it as he always did, he growled when he messed up again. What was wrong with him today?

A knock on the frame alerted him to the presence of his secretary at the open doorway of his office. Smiling, Jou waved the other in. "Hello, Malik. Something you need?"

Malik shook his head, hands behind his back as he rocked on his ankles. Jou couldn't help but note for a moment that if the other women on the floor had seen Malik now, they'd be giggling that he looked adorable.

Malik raked his gaze over Jou's predicament, taking small steps forward until he was standing at Jou's side. "I was at my desk and heard you through the doorway," Malik explained. "You sounded upset so I thought I'd take a look. Having trouble with your tie?"

Jou grinned with chagrin. "Yeah. I don't usually have trouble with it, but today I just can't seem to get it right."

Malik stepped behind Jou, his hands reaching around to take the tie from his hands. "Here, let me help."

Jou's skin tingled as Malik's hands hovered about his neck, nimble fingers working the material into its proper place. As he finished, Malik's hands seemed to hover over the hollow of Jou's throat, nails scraping the skin lightly as he straightened the tie.

"There, all done!" Malik reached behind himself for a moment, before re-emerging. "Here, take a look."

Malik brought his hand in front of Jou's face, and Jou found himself looking into a round, hand-held mirror. Staring into the mirror, which was angled slightly upward, more towards Jou's face than his neck, Jou locked eyes with himself.

"Jou, what's wrong?" Cool breath wafted across Jou's ear, and Malik's face appeared over Jou's shoulder in the mirror. But at the same time, this _wasn't_ Malik. This face's features were the same as Malik's, but sharper. The eyes were darker, like dried blood mixed with crushed lavender petals. His hair was the same, blond and straight, but a few clumps were sticking up, fighting to defy the limits placed on the rest of the strands.

When he spoke, Malik-not-Malik's voice had taken on a huskier tone, sinister and cruel. "Jou," he sang, "you're _trembling_."

Jou couldn't speak.

A throaty chuckle vibrated against his ear, and the mirror and the person holding it were suddenly gone, walking with even strides for the door. As Malik closed the door, he smiled at Jou with a face that was once again his, but eyes that still shone with something distinctly not-Malik. "See you later, Jou."

The door closed, and the unnerving inkling of something _wrong_ about Malik welled over to terrifying suspicion.

O.o.O.o.O

**Eisoptrophobia: The fear of mirrors or of seeing oneself in a mirror.**

O.o.O.o.O

_"You're such a good boy, Katsuya."Her voice rumbled in her throat, the content sigh of a predator as it licked the blood of its meal from its claws. She leaned over him, licking pouty lips that had once smiled and laughed given him warm, gentle good-night kisses after tucking him into bed. "Such a good boy."_

_Why did she keep saying that? Katsuya closed his eyes as he was forced to look at her once more; the spider—_herhandherhandherhand_—not holding his arms down grasping his chin in its painful grip. _

_"Open your eyes, Katsuya." Her breath puffed over his neck, a hot, moist cloud of decay. He clenched his eyes tighter, and she bit sharply into his neck. Katsuya cried out in pain; the keen of a wounded creature._

_Katsuya unconsciously tried to curl into himself, tears cutting through his closed eye-lids as a pitiful whine vibrated off his tongue. "Katsuya," her voice was harsh, a warning, "open your eyes."_

_Sniffing pitifully, he obeyed, and screamed._

_What was this?_ What was this?_ This creature who looked like his mother, spoke like his mother…_

_…was his mother._

_Her lips, so sweet once, so very kind and wonderful and _comforting_, twisted in a parody of understanding, his blood smeared across her mouth and chin. Her eyes gleamed in the lacking light, glassy and dark. She released Katsuya's face in favor of cupping his cheek, her head tilting forward to coo, "Katsuya, hush now. No need to scream." She came closer, noses brushing. "No need…to be afraid."_

_She kissed him._

_Katsuya struggled, tried to avoid her lips, but was unable to fight her grip. Then, just as quickly as it started, it _changed_. His mouth pried open, something wet and slimy was thrust inside. He recognized it for what it was, a tongue, his mother's tongue. It was larger than his, and he choked as it filled his mouth with the taste of metal—his blood, his blood, the blood from her lips, _his blood_—and something bitter that clung to his throat and _burned_. It was as she pulled away, spit edging over the corner of his lips and sloppily dripping across his jaw and neck, that he noticed the acrid smell that clung to her breath._

_It was that stuff from Daddy's special cabinet, Katusya realized. The stuff that made his Daddy so rough, that made his Daddy scream and throw things. The stuff his Mommy had made him swear never to touch._

_And she had drunk it. She had drunk the poison from its vial, and now she was different. Now, with the poison whispering gilded lies in her ears, she was slowly killing him._

_She kissed his nose, a horrible shadow of the affection the gesture had once held, and repeated, "You're such a good boy for Mommy."_

O.o.O.o.O

"Jou!"

Jounouchi paused before entering his office, turning to the one who addressed him. Honda, who was the secretary of another psychiatrist on the floor, was waving cheerily a few feet away. Beside him stood Malik, face alight with the same pleasantry he always possessed. It was after work hours, but Jou was planning to stay late.

"Hello, Honda," Jou replied, smiling with true affection. He and Honda had gone to the same high school once, and the friendship had luckily lasted through the years, as his friendship with Yugi had. "What's up?"

Honda rubbed the back of his head and pointed his thumb at Malik. "Well, Malik and I and some other people were thinkin' of headin' out to get a couple drinks. Want to come?"

Jou's expression remained the same, but his breathing picked up slightly. "No, I think I'm good Honda. You guys go one ahead. I've got some research to do for my thesis."

Honda's shoulders drooped dramatically as he pouted. "Aw, come on! You _never_ go out drinking with us!"

Jou's jaw tightened, but a forced smile tilted his lips. "I know, I know, perhaps next time."

Honda rolled his eyes as he straightened, muttering something like, "You _always_ say that," before sighing heavily. "Fine, fine. Have fun with your paper. Come on Malik," Honda tossed an arm over the other's shoulder, "let's go meet the others."

Malik nodded, tossing a smile over his shoulder as he left. "Sure thing; bye Jou! I'll see you tomorrow."

Jou waved slightly before retreating into his office. Sitting at his computer, Jou mulled quietly to himself about his secretary. He glanced down at his tie, and slipped it between his gloved fingers as he remembered the day before. Finally, Jou came to a decision and opened an internet browser on his desktop, typing in the address for a search engine. He typed the name 'Malik Ishtar' into the search bar, and hesitated to hit enter.

"I'm over-reacting," Jou said to himself. "There'll be nothing, and I'm just over-reacting. He came with _Yugi's_ approval. It's nothing. There is nothing."

He hit the button, and was relieved when there were no hits that seemed relevant. "See," he scolded himself, "nothing. Just like I knew there wouldn't be."

Just before he could exit the browser, the final link on the page caught his attention.

'Father Killed By Young Son': 'Malik Ishtar was accused of…'

With shaky fingers, Jou clicked the link. A newspaper article with no pictures popped up, and he quickly read it over.

'Abusive father…'

'…sister calls for her brother's innocence…'

'...believes child may have a split personality…'

'…Malik Ishtar is currently being sent to Domino Psychiatric Center for evaluation.'

"It might not be the same Malik," Jou whispered. "Just a coincidence, that's all."

But he remembered something about Malik having a sister…

Jou shook his head. "No. No, Malik's fine. There's nothing suspicious about him." His eyes were drawn back to the last line. "Domino Psychiatric Center," he murmured.

Jou remembered that place. The first thing he'd done once he'd had enough power was secure the passwords to their database. Not because he'd worked there. He'd done it to hide the fact that he'd been a _patient_ there.

Closing his eyes, Jou remembered the eggshell walls, the way shoes clicked on smooth tile and the very air smelled sterile. Like those running the place had just scrubbed the residue of something evil from the atmosphere, and left behind an overly clean scent in their attempts to hide it. He'd hated that place. He'd hated the tiny room and the locked doors he'd been forced to hide behind after he'd been checked in; the first and only time he'd ever consumed alcohol and had a violent, overwhelming burst of a relapse in his phobias.

The moment he'd gotten his current position, he'd abused the hell out of his power to make sure the records of his stay were all but erased. Now, the only way anyone could know he'd ever been there would be to check the hardcopy file in a locked records room on the basement floor of the Center.

Sweeping his mouse upward, Jou clicked on the address bar and typed in an address he'd swore never to type again, and worked his way through the several security checks. Within three minutes, he was staring at a link to the file of 'Malik Ishtar' in the database of Domino Psychiatric Center. He clicked the link.

Malik Ishtar stared back at him from his computer screen.

It was his secretary. He couldn't deny that. Malik was younger in the picture, definitely, but it was still the same Malik, right down to the lilac eyes. Face blank, Jou skimmed the report given by the psychiatrist.

'…a severe case of split personalities…'

'…oddly enough, the two personalities rarely clash with one another…'

'…almost seem to _get along_…'

'…extremely violent and possessive, especially of those things he perceives as _his_…'

'…broken out of his room on several occasions…'

'…breaks into the record room most often…'

'…can be found reading the files of past patients, especially one belonging to previous patient Katsuya Jounouchi…'

Jou stopped reading. _Belonging to previous patient Katsuya Jounouchi._

Jou jumped to his feet and ran for the door, throwing it open and storming his secretary's desk. Why would Malik read his file? Why would Malik come and work for him? Did Malik remember Jou's file? Did Malik _know?_

Frantically pulling open the drawers, Jou stopped when there, in the top-left drawer, lying innocently and almost strategically placed, lay a yellow memo pad with a list written in Malik's hand.

A list of every single one of Jou's phobias.

With trembling fingers, Jou lifted the pad from its place and held it in front of him. "Why…?" he choked. "Why would Malik…?"

"Working late, Doctor Jounouchi?" a voice purred by his ear, long tan arms reaching on either side of him to lay palms-down on the desk, trapping Jou in place as he jolted. "Didn't anyone tell you that it isn't safe to stay out at night, especially _alone_?"

O.o.O.o.O

**Methyphobia: The fear of alcohol.**

O.o.O.o.O

_He was trapped. Wrists bound, waist pinned, he was locked in place with a disgusting beast flashing its teeth as it observed its helpless victim._

_She'd started moving again, sliding that wet, tight part of her over his private place in a vile rhythm. She was acting strangely now, moving quicker, breathing heavier, her eyes and smile dazed. "So close," she was gasping. "I'm so close."_

_He wanted to get away. He wanted to run. He wanted to push her off and rip the skin from her face, make her stop looking like the mother he loved so much and instead show the meat and bone of the stranger she'd become._

_But he couldn't. The spiders had wrapped him in their sticky web, and no matter how he struggled, he could not pull free._

O.o.O.o.O

Malik's body was warm as it pressed against him. Jou didn't move as Malik's hand plucked the list from his lax fingers, and Malik's tongue clicked in disapproval against his ear. "Snooping? I'd assumed you were above such things, Jou."

Malik's lips pressed to his ear. "Well? _Doctor?_" A hot tongue dipped into the shell of his ear. "Anything to say?"

Jou shoved back from the desk, forcing Malik to stumble away enough for Jou to break from his hold and run.

He didn't get ten steps before he was caught.

Malik grabbed Jou's arm and threw him through Jou's open office door. Jou landed harshly on the floor, wincing as the slam of the door and the click of the lock reached his ears. He struggled to his feet and threw a punch at the approaching Malik, stunned when the other caught his fist and smiled a toothy grin. Using Jou's fist, Malik swung Jou onto his back next to the coffee table.

Jou coughed as his back connected with the ground again, and began to sit up when his shoulders were forced back down and his waist was straddled.

Jou sucked in a hiss, eyes wide and terrified, as Malik forced his hands above his head with surprising strength. Reaching behind himself, Malik removed a set of metal handcuffs from his back pocket and locked Jou's wrists around one of the coffee table legs.

Jou struggled to pull his hands through the loops of the cuffs, a cold sweat beading on his temples, but a hand burying itself in his hair made him pause and look up.

Malik didn't look like Malik anymore.

He looked like not-Malik, only this time there was no sign of Malik. His blond hair had risen to sharp points, his features sharpening to compliment the crushed lavender and dried-blood eyes. With the transformation came an air of power, of confidence, that made not-Malik seem larger than the Malik he knew.

"Malik—"

"Marik," not-Malik interrupted, tugging Jou's hair in warning. "Call me Marik, _Katsuya_."

O.o.O.o.O

**Merinthophobia: The fear of being bound or tied up.**

O.o.O.o.O

_He had to break free._

_The thought consumes him. He had to break free. He had to get away. He had to escape._

_From the corner of his eye the glint of metal catches his attention, and he turns his head slightly. There. A pin, with a little black ball on the tip. His mother—the woman on top of him, the woman tearing him apart at the heart and working her way out—had been mending his jeans. She must have dropped it at some point._

_And now it was here, glinting with cruel promise._

_"Katsuya!" she cried. "Katsuya! I'm there! I'm—"_

_Her grip slackened on his hands, and Katsuya's instincts took hold. His arms pushed him up, providing leverage enough to turn himself over. A loud, wet squelch tore the air as his hips forcefully separated from hers, and she shrieked as she fell to the side and struck the wall with her shoulder. _

_Katsuya reached out and grabbed the pin._

_"Katsuya?" Her voice was confused, murky. She blinked her eyes clear, and filled with rage as she realized what he'd done. "Katsuya!"_

_The spiders reached for him, and Katsuya didn't think. He struck out with the pin, eyes closed._

_His mother screamed._

_Katsuya opened his eyes, breathing heavily. She'd crumpled into a ball against the wall, skirt bunched around her hips, her hands clutched to her face and hair hiding her features._

_Guilt and disgust bubbled in his stomach in equal amounts. Guilt that he'd hurt his mother. Disgust that he'd feel even that after what she'd done._

_Her head lifted, the hair falling away to reveal her features, one side of her face covered by hands that were beginning to drip with blood. Tears leaked from the other eye, piercing him with an accusatory stare. "Katsuya," she cried, "why? Katsuya, why did you hurt Mommy?"_

_Her hands moved from her face, and Katsuya paled. Blood dripped steadily from the once covered eye, trailing down her cheek and over her chin, painting her neck with sinful tears. From her eye stuck a gleaming pin, on the tip a small black ball._

_"Why did you hurt Mommy?" she repeated, and the monster that he'd been so scared of was no longer there. What was in front of him now was his mother, his Mommy, the person he loved so much._

_He was confused. Confused and guilty and sad and _angry_. But all he could do was sit there as his skin crawled with the residue of her touch and his chest ached and his heart broke._

_"I'm sorry, Mommy," he sobbed, not moving towards her, but not running away either, "I'm sorry; I'm sorry._

_"Mommy, I'm so sorry."_

O.o.O.o.O

Jou pulled on his wrists, the metal biting into his skin and rubbing it red and raw. He stared up pleadingly at Marik, legs shifting as he tried to buck the other off of him. "Marik, please," he begged, "let me go."

Marik didn't respond, his free hand instead slipping into his pocket. "Now, now. Don't struggle," Marik chastised, smiling in amusement. Jou didn't listen, continuing to buck his hips in vain. "Katsuya, as much as I enjoy you writhing beneath me so temptingly," Marik said, his hand shifting from his pocket to hover beneath Jou's eyes, "I'm afraid I must ask you to hold still."

A pin. Marik was holding a pin beneath his eye. A pin topped with a little white ball. Images long repressed shoved to the surface of his memory, and for a few moments, Jou was lost in himself.

"Good boy," Marik crooned.

Jou didn't know how long he was paralyzed, caught in memories he'd rather forget. But it was long enough for Marik to strip his lower body and open his shirt for his perusal. Marik stroked his sides with long, light brushes of fingertips. He nuzzled Jou's neck, kissed his jaw with tiny pecks of soft lips.

It wasn't until Marik kissed the tears from the corners of his eyes that Jou emerged from himself. "No need for tears, Katsuya," Marik murmured against his cheek. "None at all."

Jou felt confusion in his stomach. "Why?"

Marik didn't answer, and instead began taking off his own clothes.

O.o.O.o.O

**Belonephobia: The fear of pins and needles.**

O.o.O.o.O

_The chair was uncomfortable. It was too big for his small body, and the cushions too plush to sit properly. He didn't like the woman across from him either. All she did was ask questions he didn't want to answer._

_"Katsuya—"_

_"Don't call me that," he says. She stops and purses her lips. _

_"Why?"_

_"Just don't."_

_She glances over him with a sweep of pitying eyes. "Alright. What should I call you?"_

_"Jou," he answers. "Just Jou."_

_Twenty minutes later she's outside the door, speaking loudly enough that he can hear her through the wood. He almost wonders if she notices how loudly she's speaking, then decides that she probably doesn't care._

_"Poor thing," she says to whomever her companion on the other side of the door is, "father dies in a bar fight, mother commits suicide a week later. And on top of all that, I doubt he even realizes that what his mother did to him was _rape_."_

_Her voice is almost cruel in its pity. "Poor thing," she repeats. "Such a poor, poor child."_

O.o.O.o.O

It's happening again.

Acid eats at his throat and he can't stop crying. Betrayal chokes his throat, makes it impossible to speak.

But it's different.

His skin feels hot. He's burning, lit with an inner flame, his entire body alight with his senses. Every thrust Marik makes within him, the warmth of blood on his thighs, the heat of a tongue laving his nipple with careful precision; all of it is felt and responded to and terrifying. He's scared, terrified, confused and angry. Where were the spiders from his memory? The claws and the poison?

It felt good, he realized.

Instantly more heat simmered within him, born of deep, murderous hatred. Why? Why did it feel good? He didn't want it to feel good. He hated it. He hated Marik.

He hated himself for lying.

"Katsuya," Marik whispered, his mouth hovering over, but not approaching, Jou's parted lips, "you're trembling again."

And then it clicked.

"Marik," Jou whispered, "undo the handcuffs."

Marik paused in his movements and met Jou's eyes with his own. They stared at each other, neither moving, until for some unfathomable reason, Marik listened. Never leaving Jou's eyes with his own, Marik reached into the pocket of his nearby jeans and removed a tiny key.

And let Jou's wrists free.

O.o.O.o.O

**Virginitiphobia: The fear of rape.**

O.o.O.o.O

_Fourteen year old Katsuya Jounouchi sits on a swingset with his best friend, Yugi Mouto, fussing over the cuts that litter his face and hands._

_"I don't know why you fight with them," Yugi scolds. "It only gets you in trouble with the teachers."_

_"They picked on you, Yugi," Jou replied, smirking charmingly. "I couldn't let them get away with that."_

_Yugi sighs, already knowing that arguing will get him nowhere on this point. Instead, he switches to something neutral. "What did you put on that paper Miss Mizuki gave us?"_

_"You mean the career goal one?" Yugi nodded. "That's easy." Jou pointed to himself with his thumb. "I'm gonna be a psychologist."_

_Yugi raised his eyebrow. "A psychologist? What kind?"_

_Jou shrugs. "Probably one of the ones you see chasing down criminals, and working in mental hospitals."_

_Yugi shudders. "Why would you want to work with people like that, Jou? They're crazy." He amends his statement. "They're _insane_."_

_Jou's smile widens and his eyes glow with something eerie and dark. "I know."_

O.o.O.o.O

Jou doesn't move. Even after being released, he holds still as Marik once more moves over him, kisses his body with lips like molten brands.

"I love you, Katsuya," Marik hisses as he sucks a patch of skin on Jou's torso. "My Katsuya. Mine. I love you."  
>Jou's arms snake around Marik's shoulders, forcing him up to Jou's lips and into a fierce, violent kiss. Teeth clash and tongues tangle, saliva forms in stringy strands as they pull apart and come back together again and again.<p>

Finally, Marik pulls back to reveal a face that is both Marik and Malik, both looking out through the same set of deadly eyes.

Jou tangles his hands in hair that is once again only half spiked, and smiles a smile too sharp to be innocent, too cruel to be kind, and too twisted to be sane before opening his mouth.

"I love you too."

O.o.O.o.O

**Agateophilia: The love of insanity.**

O.o.O.o.O

There is a pleasure sure

In being mad, which none but madmen know.

~John Dryden, _The Spanish Friar,_ 1681

O.o.O.o.O

**AN: Oh my God. Finally. Fina-fricken'-lly. I finished. Holy crap. **

**Right, so, if any of you liked this story, please, drop me a review! I'd love to know what you thought, and if you have any favorite lines or scenes or thoughts in general, please, tell me! I love the feedback so I can know what I'm doing right/wrong so I can improve myself. **


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